


Baby doll, I recognize, your hideous thing inside

by Tiefling_Grimoire



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Fjord and Jester dealing with comp het, M/M, POV Beauregard Lionett, POV Fjord (Critical Role), Set during episode 91, These kids have a good much needed talk, and now with awkward misunderstandings, but they'll figure it out, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22530415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiefling_Grimoire/pseuds/Tiefling_Grimoire
Summary: Jester and Fjord have a much needed talk about who they are and who they like. Fjord shares a little more about how his Vandran persona affected him, and maybe Jester learns that it's okay to follow a different story than the one she's been reading her whole life.Set during episode 91 of campaign 2, Stone to Clay.
Relationships: Fjord & Jester Lavorre, Fjord/Caleb Widogast, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 27
Kudos: 142





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the song I listened to on repeat while writing this, Wolf Like Me by Lera Lynn. 
> 
> Gonna be honest, this is basically my first time ever writing purely with characters that aren't mine. I hope I got the voices down, but we'll see. (I know I struggled in some places with using Fjord's new voice instead of his Texan one lol)
> 
> This takes place during episode 91, in a slight AU where Essek, Caleb, and Nott didn't finish the spell on the first day, so the Mighty Nein stayed in Rosohna a little longer. For context, it begins a few days after they went to Essek's. I have a bit more written for this little AU (mainly Widofjord, because of course I got back into this ship just as it starts to dry up lmao) so I’ll be adding on to this, but this first chapter is just this talk between Jester and Fjord because it was something I needed. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> Also, small cw: There is a brief mention of Avantika in which Fjord's trauma surrounding his relationship with her is implied.

Fjord stares up at the dark ceiling, restless. He’s been tossing and turning for at least a couple of hours now. Ridiculous really. His skin feels itchy all over, like when he’s been around Frumpkin too long. 

He closes his eyes and breathes out a deep sigh, nearly missing the creaking of the loose floorboard just outside his room. But the sound catches his ears and in a second he’s up with the Star Razor in hand.

As he hears the sound of knuckles rapping against solid wood, the tension in his shoulders loosens incrementally. He un-summons the sword with a sigh of relief, and begins to move towards the door. But just as his hand closes around the doorknob, he hears the familiar voice of Jester whisper from the other side, “Fjord? You awake?” And just like that, the tension is right back. 

He grits his teeth. He really doesn’t want to have this talk. 

He thinks about just letting her think he’s asleep, but then she knocks again and he reflexively opens the door. 

“Fjord? Oh--” He looks down to see Jester standing with her hand poised to knock. She’s in one of her frilly nightgowns but there’s something off about her. Then he sees the tear tracks down her cheeks. He can’t help the frown that pulls at his lips. 

“Jess? It’s late.” He tries to keep the gruff tone out of his voice but he sees her flinch. His frown deepens.  _ Shit. _

“I know, but, um, can we talk? I mean if you’re awake anyway?” She tries to smile up at him but the cracks are obvious and it’s almost painful to look at. 

He blows out a breath and opens the door wider so she can enter. “Yeah, alright, come in.”

She ducks her head as she passes by him. “Thanks.” It’s weird to see her so upset, so timid, and he wants to just let this damn tension go, this anger, but he can’t. 

She walks over towards the foot of his bed, but she doesn’t sit, she just shuffles her feet a bit, and hugs herself. He can see that she’s trying to keep her face neutral. He gives her a minute to speak up--he doesn’t want to start this conversation--but she stays silent. 

Finally, just as he’s about to give in and say something, she looks up at him. She’s biting her lip, hard, like she’s trying to keep it together, and something about that image is just too much.

He turns away, towards the door. “Look, Jess, maybe you should go back to bed, it’s pretty late.”

He can hear the tears in her voice as she laughs humorlessly. “I mean it’s always dark here, and you’ve got those big shutters, how do you even know?”

He can feel himself turning back as he goes to answer, automatically, “Well, Caleb always tells us the--” He stops as he sees the look on her face and decides, yeah it’s really not important. Different tact. “Why are you here?”

She worries at her lip some more before answering. “Well, I--You know earlier I kind of, um, and well you got really mad, and I’ve been thinking about it, a lot, and I guess I wanted to--I don’t know, I haven’t thought...it’s been like, a while--and um, it’s just--”

He sighs. “Jess, come on.”

She closes her eyes for a moment and seems to steel herself, when she looks back at him, there’s a strange look in her eyes, almost on the verge of panic, something manic. “I want to explain. This morning.”

“There’s not a lot to explain.” He shrugs. “I thought we were done with all that Oskar shit, especially after the Forge, but we’re not, apparently.” He really doesn’t know how to deal with this. He wishes she would just leave. 

Her eyes grow almost pleading. “Please, Fjord. Really, I didn’t mean to upset you. It just slipped out. But I can explain. I really didn’t mean to.”

He closes his eyes, fighting the urge to roll them, the urge to show just how done with all of this he already is. “Right, then. What did you mean to do?” If he’s short with her, well then, maybe she deserves it.

She seems almost surprised for a moment before she starts to rush all her words out at once. “I don’t know, Fjord. You know, in Tusk Love, Guinevere is like super pretty and wonderful and awesome and then there’s Oskar and he’s super handsome and hot and stuff and he’s like  _ super _ in love with her and they’re like super cute and sexy together and stuff, you know?”

He tries to hide his grimace at the way this is already going, but Jester droops a bit and hugs herself tighter. “And, like, it’s not  _ just  _ Tusk Love, it’s like  _ all _ of those stories. I read like lots and lots of smut books, a whole bunch, you know, growing up, because I wanted that kind of love when I was little. Because of course I did! Who doesn’t? But like, maybe I started realizing lately, or a while ago really, that, well maybe, I mean, you’re no Oskar...”

“No shit,” he grumbles. She gives him an imploring look. He tightens his jaw and gives her a short nod to continue. 

“Right, so, you’re no Oskar. But maybe, well maybe I’m not really a Guinevere either? I mean, I wanted to be, and I thought you were, but, well, it’s not really like that is it? I don’t want you to sweep me off my feet! I did, but now I don’t. Because, then you wouldn’t be Fjord, and I wouldn’t be...Jester.” 

His brow furrows in confusion and her eyes go wide. “Fjord. I think--” She trails off and he can almost see the gears whirring in her head. “So Beau and I went shopping yesterday, right? And we stocked up, on you know, reading material. And well, okay so I found this book for Beau, because she’s told me that like she can’t really relate to the books I like...”

“That’s the one you gave her earlier, isn’t it?” He has a feeling he might know where this is going and the thought leaves him a little nervous, a little...hopeful. But he tries to quash the feeling down, he’s not used to being optimistic. 

Jester nods emphatically. “Yes! The Gilded Rose. But, um, I kind of hid it from her yesterday, right, cause I mean, I wanted to make sure it was  _ good, _ you know, so I read it. I stayed up preeettty late to get through it.” She holds herself still for a moment, her tail flicking erratically behind her, before continuing, then ducks her head a bit while keeping eye contact in the way she does when she’s serious. “It was  _ realllly _ good, Fjord. Like it was so good. It was, um, better than Tusk Love. A lot better. The heroine was this like lost princess, Rosie, and she was super lonely and hidden away, and then this really pretty thief, Jade, comes in and tries to steal the treasure from her tower but she winds up helping Rosie escape instead. And they go adventuring and do these amazing things together, and they grow like super close and then they realize that along the way they fell in love. And I really liked it. Like a lot.”

He can’t help but be caught up a little bit in her enthusiasm. Maybe he does know where this is going, and while he doesn’t know what in the world it has to do with this morning, he’s willing to push that aside for the moment. “You going to tell Beau?”

Her eyes widen in shock. “No! Yes! Wait, no! Tell Beau what?” 

“That you like it?” He can’t help a nervous chuckle. It feels weird to encourage her so quickly after being at odds with her. “I haven’t misunderstood, have I?” 

“No! You didn’t misunderstand. I mean--” She huffs. “Ugh, Fjord. The point is, that the Gilded Rose was  _ sooo _ good, but...”

“But?” he prompts.

“But...I mean Jade was like super cool and stuff. But...she wasn’t...” She frowns. “I loved it so much, but I don’t want a Jade like I wanted an Oskar.”

His expression falls before he can correct it. Of course he was wrong, silly to hope.

Jester doesn’t seem to notice him as she continues. “I don’t want a Jade because I already have  _ Beau. _ " She cuts herself off and throws her hands up to cover her mouth in shock as soon as the words escape her.

Fjord’s eyes snap back to her and there’s something anxious in his chest, like he must have heard her wrong. She stares at him and gapes, looking as if she wants to take the words back, then in a second she’s scrambling and all movement. “Shit! No, I mean! I don’t mean like, I have Beau like Rosie has Jade, because Beau definitely doesn’t like me like that. She likes like  _ every _ girl but me, she likes girls like Keg and Reani and  _ Yasha _ . So like, I don’t have her, so really I should just want a Jade right. Yeah, duh, obviously. Beau and I are just really good roommates. I don’t like  _ love  _ love her--”

Fjord cuts her off by putting his hands on her shoulders in a calming gesture. “Jester, hey, slow down.” She balls her hands into fists and forcibly stills herself under his touch, but her tail still gives her away. “So you’re saying you...?”

“Maybe have like a little itty bitty crush on Beau?” She frowns. “Yeah. Maybe?” 

“Hold up. Then what was this morning all about?” he asks.

She shrugs, a helpless expression taking over her face, sniffling just a little, her eyes a bit manic. “I don’t know! I finished the book and, well, I was a little scared! I’m supposed to like boys! I’m supposed to like Oskar! I’m supposed to like  _ you!" _

He shrugs off his initial urge to flinch away. “Hey.” He squeezes her shoulder as he tries to collect his thoughts. “Why do you think you’re  _ supposed _ to like anyone in particular? You’ve never cared that Beau doesn’t like boys, have you?” 

She shakes her head violently. “No! Of course not! Beau liking boys would just be...weird. Like, remember Tracy, that was  _ so weird." _

“How about Yasha? You were fine with knowing she had a wife, right?” 

“Of course! Her wife was beautiful!”

“And Keg and Reani, you liked them too, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah! They were so cool!” 

“Then why is it so absurd that you might like girls? They do, and you don’t think that’s weird.” 

Jester frowns and he can see the tears gathering in her eyes. “I don’t know! It’s just, you know, I'm supposed to like boys.” 

“Well, what if you aren’t?” 

She rubs at her eyes and sniffles. “I don’t know. It’s just like, why would  _ all _ of those books have the princess falling for her knight in shining armor if there was another option? Why wouldn’t I have known from the beginning, you know?” 

He shakes his head. “I—“

But she cuts him off with a searching look. “I mean you like girls, right Fjord, and like you’ve always known you have, like duh, so shouldn’t I know who I like too?” 

His stomach drops and the back of his neck prickles with anxiety, but he starts talking before he even decides to. “I don’t, actually.” He chuckles, nervously, and rubs at the back of his neck as if that will just make his words go unnoticed somehow. 

She cocks her head at him. No such luck. 

“Don’t what?”

“Like--er, like women. Like that, romantically.” He shifts his gaze to his feet but he can still feel Jester’s eyes on him. There’s a long silence before he hears himself speaking up again. “I actually rather like men, myself.”

“But Avantika?!” Jester squeaks. 

He winces. “Right. Avantika.” He shifts and looks back to Jester, concern and confusion clear across her face. “Well, that wasn’t really. We needed her to trust us. I got you all into that mess, so...” He tries to ignore the pit in his gut, the clawing, panicked feeling in his chest. He pushes it down. “Anyways, I wasn’t into Avantika, no.”

There’s another long silence, he can see Jester processing this information, and then, like a switch, there’s a bright, saccharine smile on her face and she’s wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. It nearly gives him whiplash. “Soooo,  _ Fjord. _ Does that mean you liiiike somebody else? Is it Caduceus? You know you’ve been spending a lot of time—“

He hushes her, all of the sudden  _ very _ aware of how thin the walls are in this house. “Shh, Jester. No. It’s not—No, I don’t  _ like _ Caduceus. I mean I like him, but no. I don’t like anyone.” 

She must catch his slip or see something in his face because the eyebrows don’t stop. “Ooooooh, so if it’s not Cad, thennnn....” She draws it out, giving him a look that is frankly terrifying, and he knows exactly where this is going. His stomach clenches anxiously and he wishes he could think of some way out of this, fast. But she’s too quick. 

“Fjord.” She raises one eyebrow, with a devilish smirk. “Do you like....Cayyy-leb?” He doesn’t have to say anything, the warmth rising to his cheeks is more than enough answer for Jester. She squeaks in joy and jumps up and down, her tail swishing excitedly. “Fjord! Why didn’t you say anything!!!” 

“Jester, no, look, okay. It’s not—it’s not important who I do or do not like, we’re talking about you here.”

“That’s not a no, Fjorddd.” He can see that she’s got a bone and she doesn’t plan to let go any time soon. 

He sighs, tries to ease the lingering, buzzing tension from his body. “Look, Jester. You know how I put on Vandran’s accent, his persona?”

Her brow furrows at the switch in topic but she doesn’t protest it even as her energy subsides a little. “I mean yeah, how could I forget?” 

“Well, okay, so It’s like you said, a bit, with your stories. I was trying to be  _ him _ , that man that was listened to, respected even. And that man, well he didn’t...he wasn’t like me. He didn’t look at men like I did.” He searches her expression, tries to see if she understands where he’s going with this. 

“But you’re not trying to be him anymore.”

“No, I'm not.” He nods. “But when I was, I tried to look at women the way he did. I tried to give it a go, but it always fell flat, felt wrong.” 

She gets a pensive look on her face for a moment before asking, “So, when you kissed me on the cheek?”

His eyebrows rise of their own accord. “Oh, well, yeah, I guess. Forgot about that actually. I’m sorry Jess, I wasn’t trying to lead you on—“

“But you kinda were anyway--leading me on.” 

“I—I guess I was, yes.” He flounders a bit. “I didn’t know how to—let you down easy.”

Jester’s expression darkens a bit and her gaze wanders away from his face. “You didn’t really try though, did you? Honesty usually works, or you know, so I’ve heard.” She backs away, just out of reach, crossing her arms back over her chest. “You know it was really confusing when you were all hot and cold, lots of mixed signals.” 

Something in her tone, the accusation, makes him feel caged, backed into a corner even as she makes distance between them. He remembers how she fluttered her eyelashes at him this morning, sugary sweet, with that blasted name on her tongue. “You kept making me up to be this damn romantic hero, Jess. Like I was here specifically to woo you and carry you off into the sunset. You kept calling me Oskar for fuck’s sake.” He winces at how biting he sounds. He doesn't want to come off so harsh, but this wound has been festering longer than he realized. 

Jester stays quiet, he can see she’s trying not to cry again and his chest hurts. He tries to catch her eye and soften his voice as best he can, but he can feel the tension still running through his veins. “I’m sorry, Jessie. I shouldn’t have played into it, you’re right. But, it felt kind of nice, sometimes, to think I was doing something right. It felt nice to feel wanted, but it was also very confusing.”  _ This morning was confusing.  _ He takes a solidifying breath and she finally meets his eye. “I just wanted to be your friend, Jester.”

She nods and wipes at her eyes with one hand. “I...I think I knew that it was making you uncomfortable. I knew this morning, but I did it anyway because I guess I just didn’t want to, like, accept it?” She shrugs and tries to hide a small hiccup with the back of her hand. “I, um, well, I want to be your friend too, and we are friends right? Of course we are! But, maybe I was keeping you at arms’ length on purpose?” She gives him a sheepish smile and he tries to meet it. She doesn’t comment when it falls flat.

“Yeah, I think I know what you mean.”

“It’s just, like, easier to not think about it when you’ve got distractions. Like...Oskar.” 

He nods and, tentatively, reaches forward to take her hand in his. She looks down at their hands and then up to meet his eyes and offers him a more sincere smile which he returns. “You know, Jess, that’s kind of what I’m saying. You focused a lot of your energy on Oskar, and maybe that’s because you were trying to be someone you’re not. It can be pretty easy to fall too deep into the part.” The  _ I should know _ is implied, he thinks.

“So, like, I was trying to convince myself I liked boys? Because I wanted to be the princess? Or like Guinevere, or whatever.”

He nods. “I think--I think it’s because you wanted to be loved, and maybe that was the only way you knew how.”

Jester nods jerkily and tries to smile but something in it breaks and before he can say anything, she’s sobbing. He pulls her forward into a hug and lets her cry against his chest. “Hey, Jess, it’s okay.” He can feel tears prickling at his own eyes but he tries valiantly to fight them back. He presses a kiss to her hair and rubs his hand up and down her back. “You don’t have to pretend anymore. We all love you, you know that, right?”

She nods into his chest and inches closer, holding onto him so tightly it nearly hurts. “I’m sorry, Fjord.” He just barely makes out her mumble against his chest.

“Hey, it’s alright. I mean, it wasn’t, but now it is. Just, don’t do it again?” She nods against his chest, but it’s hesitant, so he adds, “We’re still friends, really.” He hugs her a bit tighter to make his point and he can feel her sigh out a long breath.

They stand like that for a good few minutes before she gently pulls far enough away to shift her face up towards him. He’s careful to not get struck by her horns. 

There’s a certain vulnerability to her eyes as she looks up at him, she looks sad, almost pitying, it makes something in his chest twinge. She takes a deep breath and for a moment, he’s afraid. 

“I really hurt you, Fjord.”

_ Oh. _

He goes to shrug it off, brings his thumb up to wipe a tear from her cheek, but she grabs his wrist to stop him. “No, I did.” She nods, to convince herself or him, he’s not sure. He doesn’t really know what to say. Because it did hurt, but it wasn’t all her fault. 

“S’fine,” he grunts, not sure where his voice has gone.

She shakes her head. “No, Fjord, it’s really not. Thank you for being sweet, but it’s not fine.” She pulls away then and brings her hands down to grasp his own, so they’re standing face to face, hands linked between them. “We weren’t honest with each other. No, we weren’t. I hurt you, and you didn’t tell me. For a long time.”

He goes to protest, defend himself maybe, but she stops him. “No, Fjord, really. We were friends, but you didn’t trust me. You’re so quick to comfort me, and that’s really sweet of you, but sometimes you need to be comforted too, you know?” There’s so much kindness in her eyes, kindness he’s not sure he deserves.

“I--”

She cuts him off for a second time, pulling his hands towards her. “You didn’t trust me because you were afraid to. I think I get it now. I made you up to be someone you aren’t, and it made you feel small.” She drops one of his hands and brings her now-free hand up to rest on his chest, above his heart. “But you’re amazing, Fjord. And I’m so sorry that I made you feel otherwise. I mean, you saved me from  _ dying, _ in the temple. And when we--” A tear rolls down her face and this time there’s no resistance when he goes to wipe it away. 

She sniffs and raises her chin, in defiance, or maybe solidarity. “When they took us, the Shepherds,” the name is a hiss on her lips, “you protected us--me. You always protect us. You care  _ so _ much, Fjord. You have such a big heart.” She taps her hand where it rests on his chest. Then she leans in, whispers conspiringly, “And you know...The Wildmother? She’s  _ preettty _ lucky to have you.” She smiles now, and there’s something incredibly soft to it, something that breaks whatever defenses he’s putting up, and the tears he was trying to hold back break free. 

He hasn’t cried in front of someone else in a long time. 

Jester looks startled for a moment before she pulls him closer. She smooths a hand over his forehead, brushing back the loose fringe, and squeezes his hand with the other. He lowers his head til they’re resting forehead to forehead, and somehow it’s not weird or awkward, it’s just soothing. She brushes a few stray tears from his cheeks and he fights back a watery smile. She holds his gaze. “I love you, Fjord. And I’m sorry I couldn’t say that sooner.” 

He closes his eyes for a moment, his heart constricting in his chest, before moving to bring her back into a hug, tucking his head against her shoulder. “I love you too, Jester.” Then, in barely more than a whisper, “Thank you.”

They hold onto each other like a lifeline. And Fjord thinks maybe he’s never felt safer. When they pull back, some minutes later, Jester smiles up at him, brightly. “You know, Fjord--” She reaches up and brushes her thumb against one of his tusks; they’ve grown quite a bit. She meets his eyes and her smile softens. “--They look really nice on you.”

He smiles back at her, then ducks his head and brings a hand up to rub at his chin. “Yeah, they’re starting to grow on me.” Jester snorts and he looks up with a groan. “No. Nope--that was not a pun.”

“It definitely was.” She shakes her head and laughs. “It was so bad.” Then she gets a glint in her eye and he barely has time to prepare for whatever she’s about to do when she leans in and whispers, loudly, in a sing-song voice. “You know who else likes your tusks? Cay-leb.” He can feel the flush returning to his cheeks involuntarily, even as he tries to fight it down.

“Now, Jessie, come on. That is not--” He takes a breath. “You’re not going to--”

She pats his arm and her mischievous smile mellows a little. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him, Fjord. But!” She holds a finger up to him.

His eyes widen. “Jess--”

She shakes her head and points the finger at his chest, poking him admonishingly. “But! You should. Tell him. I bet he would go _ so _ red. Like redder than his hair. And also, fall madly in love with you, I mean, obviously.”

He tries to ignore how the thought of making Caleb blush makes his stomach swoop,  _ or even worse, him falling in--no, nope, _ and shakes his head. “Look, Jessie, I’ve got to take my own time on this, okay? I don’t--plan to tell him, at least, not anytime soon.” She sags a bit and looks as if she’s about to argue so he twists his expression into something mimicking her previous smile and adds, “Anyway, what about Beau? I’m not sure I’ve ever even seen her blush, but I bet she’d make an exception for you.” 

Jester goes quiet as her eyes widen and her mouth makes an ‘oh’ shape. He can’t help the smirk of triumph that works its way onto his face in response. 

She gasps and looks at him, aghast, “Oh no--” 

And, all of the sudden, he definitely needs this conversation to end. He’s not sure he can handle crush-talk with Jester just yet. So he shuffles her over to the door before she can finish her thought.

“You know it’s getting really late, Jess. You should get back before Beau notices you’re missing, wouldn’t want to worry her.” He opens the door and ushers Jester out just as she’s about to protest.

“Ohmygosh, no,  _ Fjord _ .” She looks between his door and the door to her and Beau’s shared room, then back to him, and whisper-shouts, rather loudly really, “How am I supposed to go back in there now?!” He cringes, he is definitely sure that the walls are not that thick. He hopes Beau’s a heavy sleeper (but he knows she isn’t, maybe her snores will drown this out).

He shrugs and gives her his best ‘you just gotta deal with it’ face. “You’ll figure it out.” And then he closes the door in her face, and he only feels slightly bad about it when she doesn’t push back. He puts his back against the door, and once he’s sure he’s heard the mirroring sound of Jester’s door opening and closing, he lets out a very long, shaky breath.

Then, after a long moment of his thoughts amounting to approximately  _ "what the fuck just happened” _ he walks back to his bed, collapses onto it, and stares up at the ceiling once again.

_ Well, Hell. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now with Beau's POV. And maybe like a *little* misunderstanding...I mean I set it up, I couldn't not follow through. 
> 
> This fic'll probably wind up being a few chapters, maybe more, we'll see how it goes. I may include POV chapters for Jester and Caleb as well, possibly, but at least for now it's Fjord and Beau. (Next chapter will probably be back to Fjord).
> 
> This chapter is also significantly shorter than the first, but I think that's more because the first was the outlier here, it was a long talk.

Beau’s up early. Or, if she’s being honest, she never really went back to sleep. Not after Jester snuck back into the room and curled up in her bed five feet away. 

After she’d been with Fjord.

She’s still struggling with that, a bit. Because, really? They have this big fight, the two of them, about  _ Tusk Love _ no less, and then, what, they make up and they fuck? It sure sounded like they fucked (she’d stuck her pillow over her head when she’d heard Jester exclaiming “Fjord” a little breathlessly, no need to hear any more of that). 

But then, Fjord sends her right back to her room afterwards like Jester’s some kind of casual hookup, _ the fuck? _

Jester had sounded so worried (“How am I supposed to go back in there now?!”). Must’ve thought Beau would like smell it on her or something. She’d cleaned up well enough that it wasn’t obvious, but her hair had been mussed and her nightgown slightly askew. Maybe she’d thought that she wouldn’t be able to look Beau in the eye after? But that’s silly, Jester trusts her, right? Or maybe she wanted it to be a secret. But that doesn’t really sound like Jester at all. No--Secrecy?--that’s all Fjord.

She’s trying really hard to not be furious, she really is, but there’s this tension in her shoulders, this pressure in her chest, and she can’t keep her teeth from grinding. 

When she leaves the room to do her morning exercises, she doesn’t even spare a look towards Fjord’s door as she heads downstairs.  _ Fuck him. _

She goes through the motions as she does her warm ups, but then she’s at the punching bag and she’s giving it her all, every punch cracking into the surface, until it hits the wall and a rip splinters across the fabric, sending sand cascading to the floor around her. She throws her hands up and curses, “Fuck!”

She breathes, heavily, and just fights against her anger. She doesn’t have anywhere near the peace of mind to shake it off. She feels like she could give Yasha a run for her money right now.

But then she hears a door creak behind her and she whips around to see a very sleepy Caleb in a dressing robe, peering in at her from the library door. His brow is furrowed as he surveys the damage and then looks back to Beau, raising one eyebrow, quizzically. He says nothing but she can see him thinking, calculating her.

“Oh, fuck off,” she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest and very pointedly staring at the wall instead of him. 

He takes it in stride. “Ah, what has bitten your butt this morning then?”

She clenches her jaw. “Gods, would you just--”

“Beauregard.” There’s this weird war between feeling chastised and feeling seen when he says her name like that, she closes her eyes and breathes out through her nose with a huff.

She can feel him staring at her, and when she looks back he doesn’t avert his eyes like she hopes he will. Instead, it’s that intense stare that he’s known to do every once in a while, and it feels a bit like a mirror, blue against blue. “Come sit,” and there’s an ounce of understanding in his voice that makes her deflate just a little. She nods and follows him into the library. 

Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop there, but leads her into his own room. 

Once they’re both inside, he closes the door carefully, then sits on the edge of his bed and pats the spot next to him. She’s not quite there yet though, so she leans up against the wall instead. He doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t say anything either. And like, why bring her in here if he’s not even going to say anything? She can’t stand the silence right now. 

“What do you want, Caleb,” she bites out. 

His eyes meet hers again, for a second, before he looks away. “Well, not to be awoken at--” He tilts his head and looks as if he’s calculating. “--4:43 in the morning, to start, but I think this is more about you, my friend.”

She scoffs. “Like you’re never up this early anyway. You’ve got that spell shit you’re working on, bet you didn’t even go to sleep.”

He does that quiet smile-but-really-a-laugh thing that he does and fights off a yawn (just hamming it up, huh) and she rolls her eyes in exasperation. He pats his mouth as he loses the battle and she glances away; they’re damn contagious and she is not going to give him that satisfaction.  _ Yeah, I’m that petty, whatever. _

When she looks back, he gives her a calculated, almost challenging, look. “You are deflecting, Beauregard, but I am sure you know this.”

She sighs and deflates even further. She knows he’s right, and fuck, she’s gotten better about this shit, hasn’t she? “Fine. I’m angry. Course. Always fucking am, right?”

“You know that is not true.” Sometimes he’s such a little shit, how is it fair that he can also be so understanding. “What is it that has angered you? It can be good to talk about it, to vent, you know. And I am willing to listen.”

She goes to sit on the bed next to him with a weary sigh. “It’s not really mine to tell,” she says automatically, and fuck, but really that’s true, isn’t it? She can’t just go spreading this around, what if Jester really did want it to be a secret? Fuck.

He nods. “Alright.” He’s silent for a moment, and she doesn’t have anything else to say, but then he lights up as if he has an idea. “Perhaps you should go and wake Fjord.”

“What?!”  _ How does he know? _

His brow furrows in plain confusion. “You two work out in the mornings,  _ ja? _ That poor bag is beyond repair, but surely some sparing may do you good?”

“Oh, yeah, totally,” she says, quickly, trying to cover herself, “But, you know,  _ yesterday,  _ he’s probably tired, wouldn’t want to exhaust him further, you know.”

“Perhaps Yasha then--” Caleb starts, but then realization crosses his face and Beau curses internally. “Ah, so it is Fjord you are angry with.” He gives her a searching look and she tries to keep her face as neutral as possible. “But, it is not about his and Jester’s fight yesterday, is it?”

She reluctantly shakes her head. “It’s not, but really, Caleb. It’s not my place to tell you. Thanks, you know, for listening, but--ugh I really can’t--”

He pats her on the shoulder. “I understand,  _ mein Freund,  _ do not worry. But, Fjord is a good listener, I’m sure if you spoke with him he would be willing to work out whatever is going on between you two.”

She huffs a dry laugh. “I don’t think it’s that easy this time. I don’t know, I’ll think about it I guess.” She hangs her head a bit. “Thanks, Caleb. You won’t talk to him about this, right?”

He shakes his head. “No, it is none of my business.” Then he gives her a small smile and snaps his fingers and suddenly there’s a warm weight scarfing around her neck and a familiar soothing purr that rumbles through her chest. 

She can feel herself relaxing without even meaning to. She reaches up to give Frumpkin a scritch behind the ears and gives Caleb a small, but genuine, smile as she goes to leave. “Thanks.”

He nods but doesn’t look at her. “Do not mention it.” 

She gently closes the door behind her, petting Frumpkin as she stands in the library for a moment in contemplation. Then she heads back into the training room. 

It looks like someone came and dumped half a beach on it. Maybe cleaning up her mess will help calm her racing thoughts. She can hope, at least. If that doesn’t work, a spar with Yasha doesn’t actually sound like a bad idea.

And maybe, if she’s lucky, Jester and Fjord’ll tell everyone at breakfast or something, and she won’t have to worry about how to bring it up to Jester in private.

But, really, there’s a reason Beau’s never believed in luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I yawned like ten times just while writing and rereading that one paragraph man.
> 
> I hope this came across more as Beau being protective than being jealous, because I don’t really think she’d let jealousy affect her so much, but I do feel like she’d be upset if she thought Fjord wasn’t treating Jester right.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, back to Fjord.
> 
> You know how I said that the length of the first chapter was the outlier, well that was definitely a lie.

The next morning they all convene for breakfast, as is routine by now. Caduceus is busy in the kitchen and the others are messing around in the dining room that’s starting to become more of a living space. 

As Fjord steps into the room, he picks his way over a few half-empty vials that have been strewn about. And just as he’s sure he’s safe, he skids gracelessly across some kind of grease-like substance for his efforts. “Ugh, Jesus, Nott,” he curses. She gives him a blank look from where she’s working on something alchemical a table over but doesn’t comment. “Didn’t Caleb set up that lab specifically for all--” He waves at whatever she’s working on. “--that?”

She shrugs. “Yes he did, but the food’s not in the library.” 

“Yeah but can’t you--” He’s about to argue more but a sudden tugging at his arm cuts him off.

And then Jester's bright voice is in his ear. “Fjord! You finally made it down, man you slept soooo late.” He looks down, mouth still quirked into a frown, but it dissolves as he sees Jester’s smiling face. The tear tracks are nowhere to be seen, and honestly, she looks better than she has in a while. And that weird tugging sensation in his chest that’s been there before, when they’ve interacted, it’s not there anymore. He feels...calm, like he doesn’t have to tense up when she touches him, knows there’s nothing ulterior behind it. She just wants to be close to  _ him, _ there’s no need to pretend _. _

He can’t help the smile that breaks over his face. “Hey, Jess. You’re looking cheery.” 

“Well, duh!” She says, but she doesn’t elaborate, just gives him that sunny smile that says ‘I’m glad we talked’ without her having to voice it aloud. Then, without warning, she wraps him up in a hug. He melts into the embrace almost without meaning to, but Jester pulls back after only a moment, gives him a smile, and flitters off towards the kitchen. “I was about to go help Deuces,” she calls back to him over her shoulder, then disappears through the doorway. 

Fjord nods, realizes she can’t see it, scrunches up his nose, and then swivels to survey the room. 

For a second, he’s sure that there are eyes on him, but when he looks, Nott is still working on her shit (though when she catches him looking she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at him. he promptly ignores her) and Beau and Yasha are deep in conversation at one of the center tables—Beau with her feet kicked up on the table. 

He slaps Beau’s feet off the table as he walks past and she gives an indignant yelp before righting herself and placing her feet back where they were. She flicks him off without moving her attention from her conversation, and—well usually that would be it, but there’s a weird tension in her shoulders and he could swear for a moment that her jaw is clenched. He tries to laugh it off, he did it in jest--of course--but he wonders if something’s wrong (he’ll have to check up on her later). Yasha sends a small amused smile his way, though, so he returns it with a nod. 

He clears his throat and searches the corners for a certain wizard, but he comes up empty. 

“Where’s Caleb?” he asks, seemingly to the room, but it’s Nott who answers first.

“Library. He’s been working all morning.” 

“And you’re not helping him this time?” he asks, curious. He’d think she’d be all over that, she certainly had been when they’d been to Essek’s two days prior.

She looks up from her work then, and he sees a bit of tension in her brow that he hadn’t noticed earlier. “No, he kicked me out.”

He raises an eyebrow incredulously. “He did?”

“Well, no, but he wanted me to join you all, he said we’d been working for a while and he needed some time to himself to think.” She shrugs. “We’re going back to Essek’s tomorrow, I think. Jester messaged him earlier about it.”

He hums in acknowledgement and tries not to linger on the hesitation this newfound “trust” with Essek brings him. Just then, Jester dances back into the room, cheese platter in hand, followed by Caduceus holding something that smells absurdly good. Even after getting a good look, he’s really not sure what it is. 

Before he can overthink it, he joins the rest in making their plates, thanks Cad, and makes an extra plate with perhaps a bit more than one portion really calls for. 

He stands to leave the room, but just as he makes it to the doorway, Beau calls out to him, “Where’re you going, Fjord?”

“Er, Caleb--” He doesn’t know why all of the sudden he feels like this is incredibly revealing. He sees Jester’s attention snap to him with a Look, so maybe that’s why. “Nott said he’s been working all morning, so, thought it would be best to bring him something--” He lifts the extra plate in question. She gives him a lazy nod--a gesture in weird contrast to the steel in her gaze--and turns her attention back to Jester--who quickly pretends she wasn’t looking at Fjord. 

He feels Nott’s suspicious eyes on him, too, as he exits the room and heads for the library. 

He really hopes he’s not that obvious.

As he shoulders into the training room, a plate in either hand, he notices he feels just a bit nervous, which really is silly. He talks to Caleb nearly every day, nothing different today. Just because Jester found out about his--well it really doesn’t matter anyway. It was only recently that he recognized the warm fluttering feeling that starts up whenever Caleb looks his way. But—still—it’s just a crush or, maybe, fond admiration-- _ No, come on, don't minimize this. You’ve already admitted it, might as well embrace it.  _

Crush or no, he can deal with it. 

He can make it work.

He shakes these thoughts from his head and nudges the library door open with his boot. “Morning.” He calls, as a warning probably, before he peeks his head into the room.

The scene is about what he expects. Caleb’s sitting at his desk, papers, notes, and spell components surrounding him. He’s in his tunic, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, scarred forearms bare, and ink staining his fingers. His hair’s pulled back into the ponytail he’s been keeping lately, but a few strands have gotten loose and have fallen to frame his face in profile. Fjord tries not to stare. Especially not at the way the amber light of the four floating globules sets the color of his hair on fire--striking against the smoke-grey of his tunic--and gives him a breathtaking, otherworldly appearance. Nope, definitely not staring. He’s glad Caleb hasn’t looked up at his entrance. 

After another moment of definitely-not-staring, he walks in and sets the plates on one of the tables near the center of the room. “Hey, Caleb, brought you breakfast.”

Caleb doesn’t turn, but Fjord makes out his mumbled, _ "Danke." _

He takes a seat at the table, figuring if Caleb’s deep in it he’ll probably take a minute before he actually processes what Fjord just told him. He doesn’t mind waiting really, not when it gives him a chance to study the wizard. It’s harder to see his face from this angle, but he can practically see the excitement in the way he sits, leaning forward eagerly, completely engrossed in his equations. Making a mark, erasing it quickly, only to write down ten more notes, flipping back two pages, rolling an odd component in his other hand. Nearly looks like he’s  _ hasted _ himself. 

It still leaves Fjord in awe when he sees Caleb perform magic, but seeing him crafting an entirely new spell--using Halas’s work as a base or not--that’s damn impressive. 

He barely notices that Caleb has stilled until he hears his amused chuckle. “You are staring, Fjord.”

The sound leaves his mouth dry. He sits up straight, sputtering, “No I’m--”

Caleb angles his torso towards him--eyes still on his work like it’s hard to pull himself away--then quickly glances over with a quirk of his brow. “Did you have need of me?”

“I--er, breakfast?” He gestures to the plates of slowly cooling food in front of him. 

Weirdly, Caleb’s ears go a little pink. He looks slightly abashed. _ "Oh. _ I-- _ ja, _ sure. I apologize, I don’t think I heard you.” 

Fjord laughs, nervously, and rubs his neck. “Yeah, no, I didn’t expect that you did. You were a bit, er, absorbed.”

_ "Ja, _ well it is...very exciting.” Fjord can see him internally filtering himself, keeping himself from info-dumping every little detail of his work that’s darting through his mind at the moment. And, well, he’s not about to have that.

“It sure looks it.” He leans forward, placing his elbows on the table and cupping his chin with one hand, flicking his gaze towards the notes sitting in front of Caleb. “Care to share?”

Caleb looks down to his notes, then back to the plates on the table. He nods quickly, to himself, and then his lips quirk up into that small indulgent smile that Fjord can’t get enough of. “Oh, why not? But here.” He gets up and makes his way over to sit opposite Fjord. “You’ve brought food, I can tell you as we eat. If...you would like to stay?”

“Well, that’s what I was planning.” He smiles sheepishly, then pushes the extra plate, with the generous helping, towards Caleb, who narrows his eyes and gives Fjord a playfully stern look. He tsks before accepting the plate without comment. Fjord considers that a win.

“You know, I am not so bad that I do not eat.” 

_ Spoke too soon. _

He nods and gives Caleb an assessing look. “Of course not, but I’ve been told it’s important to eat your—” He picks up a forkful of some kind of Xhorhasian purple-red root vegetable that he’s never seen in his life, “—well whatever this is. Keeps you strong.” He eats the bite off the tines, swallows it--it’s pretty good--and puffs out his chest as if in example. 

He can see the smile tugging at Caleb’s lips even as he affects a dry tone. _ "Ja, _ it is very important that I stay strong, out of everyone.” Then he gets that mischievous look that he must’ve learned from Jester and moves to swap their plates. “But I think maybe you need the help more than I. After all, you are training for this, while I have no need for such exercises.”

Fjord grabs his wrist to stop him. Caleb’s answering smirk is very smug and that confident light in his eyes might be a little more distracting than Fjord cares to admit. Caleb’s hands still and--almost unconsciously--Fjord trails his hand down to Caleb’s as he goes to release him. His fingers run over the raised scar tissue along his palm, a mirror of his own, and the sensation is enough of a shock to make him realize what he’s doing and pull away. 

Caleb’s expression falls just slightly, and Fjord can tell he’s missed the opportunity to snark back. He can’t tell if Caleb noticed his slip but he’s not about to let this conversation fail before it even begins, so he searches for some response (and carefully tucks his hands into his lap as a reminder to not be quite as impulsive). “Funny that, Beau let me sleep in this morning. Thought she’d have me out of bed at the arse crack of dawn.”

It's the wrong thing to say, somehow, and Caleb’s expression becomes a touch more somber. He pulls his hands back and takes a bite of his food, but to Fjord it looks suspiciously like he’s stalling. “She knew you were in need of the sleep, perhaps.” 

“And why’s that?” For some reason he feels like maybe Caleb can answer for Beau’s bizarre standoffishness this morning. But that hope fizzles out when Caleb just shrugs, casually, in that way that means he definitely has an opinion but he’s not quite comfortable with sharing it.

“I do not know, she knows you well.” He wonders if he’s imagining the unspoken  _ But I don’t.  _

Maybe this is his chance. 

He pushes his plate to the side for the moment and leans forward.  _ So much for not being impulsive _ . “Speaking of that. I didn’t tell her—or anyone else—before the Forge.” Caleb gives him an inquisitive look but then his eyes alight and Fjord knows he’s caught on. “Jester picked up on it too, a while back, but I didn’t explain it to her either, not fully.” 

Caleb looks conflicted but smooths out his expression and averts his eyes. He takes a measured breath before responding, “There is no need to apologize, if that is what this is. It is in the past.”

Fjord shakes his head. “I wanted to tell you. And I would’ve, but then the shit with my powers and Uk’otoa—it was an impulsive decision. It’s not that I didn’t trust you, because I do.” 

Caleb’s lips tug down into that frown he gets when he’s thinking hard on how to word something, so Fjord halts whatever he was going to say next. “You were not comfortable telling me when I cornered you. I understand that. I cannot blame you for not wishing to share something so personal.” He gives him one of those forced half-smiles. “Besides, I have not shared every detail of myself. It was unfair to ask so much of you.”

He can see Caleb closing up, right in front of him, and he knows he’s got to say something to put a stop to that. “No, but I-- well, damn Uk’otoa right? Look, I can’t say I was looking forward to the conversation, but I wanted to have it, with you. You’re important to me, Caleb.” It’s alarming how easy it is to be almost too honest when they’re alone with each other.

Caleb gives him a long, searching look, with those bright blue eyes and Fjord tries not to fidget. Finally, he sighs out a breath and averts his gaze. “Ah, I--thank you, Fjord.”

There’s an awkward moment where they sit there in silence, barely touching their food. Fjord’s not sure what to say, but then he remembers. “Weren’t we supposed to be talking about your spell?”

Caleb looks relieved at the change in subject and within an instant that spark is back in his eyes. But then he seems to restrain himself. “Oh, well. I do not wish to take up all of your time.”

Fjord hums in acknowledgement before responding, tone markedly flippant, “Then you have until I’ve finished my food.” He picks up a cheese cube at random, pops it into his mouth, and gives Caleb a wink. Or maybe he just blinks--he hopes it was a wink.

“Cheeky,” Caleb deadpans. 

But it seems to have done the trick because Caleb takes another bite of his breakfast and then begins to describe the work he’s been doing this morning. Fjord doesn’t follow quite a lot of the theory at first, but hearing him speak with so much passion is worth it on its own. 

He realizes, though, after a few minutes of Caleb explaining and going on tangents, that it actually isn’t as difficult to follow as he thought it would be. Caleb has a knack for explaining things in a manner that demonstrates his true interest in sharing knowledge. He breaks down the theory, puts it into understandable pieces that someone with Fjord’s magical background, even with his lack of tutelage, can understand. He uses anecdotes and examples, does his best to make sure Fjord is connecting with what he’s saying, makes sure that there’s reciprocation, and it makes him feel almost guilty that he’d been prepared to check out for a good part of it. 

He can see, very clearly now, the Caleb that might’ve been. The professor at Soltryce. He’s struck with the acute unfairness of it all; if any of them deserved a better life, a brighter one, it’s him. 

“Fjord?” 

“Sorry?” He didn’t even realize that he’d zoned. 

“I apologize, I am boring you,” Caleb says and there’s a slightly resigned set to his eyes, the only tell in his carefully neutral expression.

“No-no. Quite the opposite,” Fjord assures. He can tell Caleb’s not convinced. “I was—well I was just imagining you, teaching, you’re quite good at it.” 

There’s a mix of emotions in Caleb’s eyes for a second before he smiles weakly. “Oh.” 

Fjord knows Caleb will never take a compliment, but he can’t help himself from trying. He leans forward, trying to catch Caleb’s eye. “It amazes me that you can take the unfinished work of a man who lived so long ago— _ pre-calamity— _ and turn it into reality. That’s incredible, Caleb.” He doesn’t even try to keep the awe out of his voice.

Caleb just shakes his head. “It is not reality yet, and most of the work is not mine to claim, but you are very kind, Fjord.” Their eyes meet briefly before Caleb glances down at his hands. “Soon though, I hope.”

Fjord smiles crookedly at him. “Well, it sounds like you’re close.”

“It is impossible to know for sure, but  _ ja, _ I think so,” Caleb replies and there’s a small smile tugging at his lips too. Fjord’s eyes flicker down to them and for a moment he wonders what would happen if he just leaned in and closed the gap between them. Would Caleb’s lips feel as soft as they--- _ nope, no, uh-uh. Not. Happening. _

He looks back up to Caleb’s eyes—quickly—only to see that they’re focused on him--dark blue--with an intensity that’s almost startling.  _ Shit.  _ He averts his gaze, plants it firmly on the table, and tries to act like he definitely wasn’t just picturing kissing him.  _ Fuck. _

As he fights down his mortification (which he does in silence because Caleb’s not saying anything, and why isn’t he? is he just being polite? because surely it was obvious where Fjord was looking) he realizes his plate has been empty for a while now and Caleb’s is nearly there, pushed aside. Maybe he shouldn't push his luck any more than he already has. 

He gestures to Caleb’s plate. “Are you finished with that? I could take it back for you.” He coughs to clear his throat when his voice comes out a little hoarse.  _ Wildmother help me.  _

After a long moment of silence, he risks looking back up and sees that Caleb is staring off to the side--a little unfocused with a flush high on his cheeks. He looks back towards his plate, absently, with a nod. “Oh.  _ Ja. Danke." _ But his voice sounds far away and what is Fjord supposed to do with  _ that. _

He holds his breath, waiting for...something, but Caleb doesn’t look back up until he’s collected the plates and is standing to leave. But when he does, he’s biting his damn lip, and the expression on his face sends Fjord’s heart racing. 

He knows he needs to leave, now, before he makes an even bigger fool of himself. He stumbles over his own feet a bit in his haste to make for the door and then forces himself to look away as he opens it and takes a steadying breath.  _ Jesus. Be cool.  _ “Thank you for sharing your work, Caleb, it was very interesting,” he says, thanking the Wildmother when his voice comes out almost normal. 

Caleb seems to snap out of whatever thought he was having and Fjord sees him nod out of his periphery.  _ "Nein, _ thank you, Fjord, for listening to my ramblings.” He pauses for a moment and seems to shake himself before requesting, “Would you mind sending Nott back this way if you run into her?” 

“Yeah, yep, can do.” And then he leaves--and tries to pretend he’s not fleeing--his thoughts racing almost as fast as his heartbeat.  _ FuckShitBalls.  _

He exits the training room and nearly impales himself on a horn as he runs into the blue blur that is Jester sprinting towards the stairs. “Whoa, whoa, slow down,” he chides, almost automatically.

Jester’s laugh is high and clear. “Nooo, Fjord!” He nearly falls back into the wall as a small, green form rushes past him. Nott. “I was racing Nott but now she’s definitely going to win.” Then she calls out, loudly, “Nott!! Come back!”

He hears incomprehensible screeching which he assumes means that Nott plans to do no such thing. Jester slumps in defeat for a moment before she looks Fjord over once more, sees the plates, and lights up. “Oooooh, how was breakfast, Fjorrrd?” 

He attempts to collect himself before responding, “Er....right. Breakfast. It was...” He’s not honestly sure, after running out so quickly. “Not my finest moment,” he settles on.

Jester’s brow furrows. “What do you mean? You didn’t like get nervous and snort your food all over Caleb or something did you? I saw that happen once at the Chateau, it was sooo gross.”

He gives her an incredulous look. “Uh, no. I definitely didn’t do that.” 

Jester sighs out a small huff. “Aw, that would’ve been so funny. But what went wrong? Did you declare your undying love and then he was like ‘oh no, sorry, Fjord, you’re such a good friend, but my heart belongs to dusty old books’?” Her imitation of Caleb is dramatic and unconvincing but still, somehow, appropriately mortifying. 

He rubs his face with his free hand. “No I--” He clears his throat. Is he really going to tell Jester? This is just embarrassing. But she’s giving him that look that means she’s honestly listening and well, maybe he should run it by somebody. “I--fuck.” He looks back towards the stairs just to make sure Nott really did leave. “He caught me staring at his lips,” he mutters, feeling incredibly ridiculous, like a schoolboy talking about his crush or something. 

Jester gasps and makes an ‘oooh’ sound and he immediately regrets his decision (but is also immensely glad he refrained from mentioning the hand-holding). “Ohmygosh, Fjord! But that’s so romantic! You know in smut books that’s like totally a thing, like the heroine sees the hero like making eyes at her and they always end up fucking.”

Fjord winces. “Jess, didn’t we just talk about how those books are entirely inaccurate? And there’s no heroine in this story.” He realizes what he’s just implied and backtracks. “I mean, there’s no story to begin with.”

“Hey! Fjord, that totally happened in  _ The Gilded Rose _ too, so like, it’s totally possible.” She raises an eyebrow and gives him that suggestive smile, apparently ignoring everything he’s just said. “How did he react? Was he like totally red and flustered? Ooooh did his eyes get like really dark? You know when people’s pupils dilate when they’re like super horny, did he do that? Was he... _ happy to see you? _ ” 

She looks particularly pleased with herself when his eyes widen in horror. “Now Jess, come on--” he implores.

But she just smiles innocently and gives him an expectant look. “Well?”

Fjord goes to deny all of that, especially the last bit, but stops because he can’t help remembering the blush on Caleb’s cheeks and how his eyes  _ had _ darkened when he caught him staring. But, really, that could have meant anything, couldn’t it? He’d probably been embarrassed or upset or something like that. It’s not like Caleb has ever shown any interest in him. He sighs and shakes his head. “He didn’t--it just made things awkward, really. And then I practically admitted to it by bolting out of there.”  _ Shit. Innocent people don’t run. _

Jester frowns in thought and is about to say something else when the door to the dining room opens and Beau slips out. When she spots them, she straightens up and tenses in a way that looks entirely unnatural for the situation.  _ Something is definitely wrong, then. _

Jester either doesn’t notice or decides not to comment because the second she looks over she gets a big sunny smile and waves Beau over. “Oooh, Beau, Fjord and I are going to go shopping, do you want to come?”

“You are?”  _ “We are?” _

Beau and Fjord share a bemused look for just a moment before Beau abruptly closes herself off again. Fjord furrows his brow in confusion but sets his attention back on Jester. “Yes! Well, we are now. There are some things I still need to buy, and there’s a shop I have to show Fjord.” Beau looks apprehensive, and Jester must notice because she adds, “It’s that bookshop where I got your book! You remember?” 

Fjord notices that Beau actually looks a little flustered as Jester mentions the book. But then he realizes what Jester’s said and he looks at her. “Why do you want to show me a bookshop?” She glances over to him out of the corner of her eye and gives him a significant look to try to convey  _ something, _ but he doesn’t follow. “That’s not really my kind of reading, Jessie, but if you really need someone to accompany you I’ll tag along.” It beats staying in the house with the knowledge that Caleb is right there. 

“If Fjord’s going then you don’t need me,” Beau says, backing away. She points her thumb behind her towards the stairs. “I’ll be upstairs, you know, meditating and shit.” It sounds like utter bullshit, but Fjord doesn’t call her on it.

Jester pouts, though, and looks at Beau pleadingly. “Oh Beau, please? They had a whole section with books like  _ The Gilded Rose _ and I’m going to buy a new dress too and I really want your opinion!”

“I haven’t even finished  _ Gilded Rose _ yet, and I’m sure whatever dress you pick’ll be great, Jess.” 

“Well yeah, but what if I get home and try it on and you don’t think it’s cute! Then I’ll have to go return it and get a different one and I’ll have wasted so much time.” 

Fjord can almost see the panic in Beau’s face. “Wha--you know you don’t have to like get my approval on what you wear, right?”

“Of course not, Beau, but I want you to think I look pretty!” Fjord spares a glance over at Jester, wonders how she can say something like that so openly after she’s confessed her feelings to him. She doesn’t look all that bothered, though, so maybe it’s not such a big deal to her.

Beau coughs. “Oh, uh, I always think you look pretty, Jester.” Now Beau on the other hand—Fjord’s not sure how he missed it, but the look on her face is all too familiar. Maybe he just hadn’t been looking for it before, but surely she’s not this flustered for nothing? “Anyway, I gotta catch up on some training, keep in tip-top shape, you know, so I can’t go. But really, you’re like the best at picking cute dresses, and I’m sure Fjord’ll have an opinion, so...” She retreats to the stairs before Jester can respond. 

Jester frowns as she goes. “She’s acting  _ so weird,  _ Fjord. Do you know what’s up with her?” 

He shakes his head. He certainly plans to find out though. The two of them haven’t had a check up in a while and apparently Beau’s been holding out on him. 

Jester hums in contemplation for a moment, still looking towards the stairs, then turns to him. “Anyway. I’m taking you to the bookshop so you can get a book for Caleb! Obviously! I mean really we don’t even know if he likes men, so why not get him a smut book with two guys and see what he thinks? He read the other ones so it’s not even weird.” 

Well, Fjord can’t actually fault that logic. But Jesus, what if he’s not interested in men at all? That would make this morning infinitely more embarrassing. But now he really needs to know, so he nods. “Alright. That sounds like a step in the right direction, I guess.”

Jester smiles brightly. “Good! Let’s go then!” And she tugs on his arm and leads him towards the front hall. “Ooh and I can tell him it’s for you, and that I need his opinion on it!”  _ Oh no. _

He extricates his arm and gestures to the dishes he’s still holding before moving in the other direction towards the kitchen. “Uh, Jester, you sure that’s smart? I don’t know if—“

She adjusts to follow him and though he’s not looking at her he can still hear the frown in her voice, “Of course, Fjord. How’s he supposed to know you might be interested otherwise? You don’t exactly go around wooing guys or anything.” 

He coughs. “Ha, no, I don’t. But—“

“And I mean he’s called you handsome before--” Fjord firmly pushes away the feelings that line of thinking bring up. He’s pretty sure he’s lost Jester as she continues, “--but you know so have I, and Beau too, so maybe that doesn’t mean all that much."

He pushes into the dining room and sees it’s empty. “Right, well why don’t we find a book and go from there?” he asks, directing them to the kitchen.

She nods resolutely. “Alright. Get a book.” Then her eyes light up. “Ohhh but it’s gotta be thematic, you know? Like what if they have one that’s like a sailor and a scholar who take down a tyrannical government with the help of their best friends—like the Mighty Nein, obviously—and then they fall madly in love?” 

“No. That is way too on the nose. He’d figure that out in a second, Jess.”

“I think that sounds like a lovely story.” 

Fjord nearly jumps out of his skin as he rounds the corner towards the kitchen and sees Caduceus looming in the doorway.

“Shit! Er, Deuces, didn’t see you there.” Caduceus smiles warmly as Fjord addresses him. “Uh, how much of that did you hear?”

Caduceus considers him for a moment before asking, “Are you planning to have a talk with Caleb, then?” 

“That wasn’t really—“ He sighs. Of course Cad won’t make this easy on him. “Talk about what?”

“The two of you.” And of course his smile is serene, like he’s not bringing up all of Fjord’s current insecurities with one question.

“Nope—Jesus—does everyone know?” He turns to Jester, hoping maybe she has some reassurance for him.

She shrugs. “Honestly Fjord, maybe? Well except Beau because I’m pretttty sure she’d have like threatened your life or something, you know like the protective sibling talk.” She seems to consider it. “No, wait, there’s no way Nott knows either right? Because she’d totally do that too, except she might also like shoot you. Maybe Yasha though, she’s really perceptive, you know.” 

“Miss Yasha  _ is _ very perceptive when it comes to things like this,” Cad helpfully supplies. 

“I mean I didn’t know, obviously, not until you told me,” Jester pipes up. “Oh, and I doubt Caleb knows. But he can be weirdly perceptive when it comes to people sometimes though.” 

“Oh, ha, good. Just what I wanted to think about.”

Jester frowns even as she tries to affect a cheerful voice. “I’m sure it’s fine! I mean he hasn’t said anything about it to you right?”

“Yes because  _ Caleb _ is well known for being open and forthright with emotional matters. Especially when it might upset someone.” Why hasn’t he thought about this? Caleb has to know, right? Fjord has been uncomfortably obvious. 

“I don’t think Caleb knows what you think he knows,” Caduceus supplies. “But he does know something, just not what you’re thinking, I think.”

Helpful. “Right, I'm going to trust you on that one, Cad.”  _ Because the alternative is mortifying. _ “Let’s just go buy a book before I find the sound judgement that I seem to have misplaced, alright?”

Jester nods enthusiastically. “They have so many books! I’m sure we can find a good one, Fjord.” 

He really hopes that he’s not going to regret this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this really took me forever, huh? I realized while writing this chapter that I have never written anything resembling romantic/sexual chemistry before and boyyyyyy was it way harder than I expected it to be. It really tripped me up on this, so I'm sorry it took me so long. Hopefully their interactions landed well, but I've edited this so many times that I'm not even sure anymore. 
> 
> I also realized, as this is my first time writing CR fic, that it is very bizarre to write an ongoing fic for a series that changes as rapidly as CR. The content felt fairly relevant when I started writing it and now it feels like so long ago in game time. I'm still trying to continue this, of course, but I'll be honest, it may be difficult to update quickly. It definitely throws me off when I'm writing this and then I stay up on Thursday to watch an episode that's in a completely different plot arc. And like wow does ep 91 feel like a million years away from ep 96 gfhgfdhjg
> 
> I am definitely looking forward to writing the smut shopping though fdjshgkd so that's probably where this'll pick up, and maybe we'll get some Jester or Caleb pov.
> 
> Also, just let it be known that this was the first chapter I wrote with Caleb (I wrote Chapter 2 after I started this one) and like one of the first responses I had him say was "Oh, ja" and I was like wow I'm really channeling Marisha!Caleb here huh. So, of course, I had to slip it in somewhere.


End file.
